


tumblr requests: part deux

by popnographic



Series: Rarepair drabbles [15]
Category: Free!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 21:17:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popnographic/pseuds/popnographic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requests from <a href="http://popnographic.tk/post/136780306908/send-me-a-pairing-a-number">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SouHaru + “What do you mean you’re not attractive whatthefuck”

There’s a girl clearly eyeing Haruka from a couple of tables away, and Sousuke wants to tell Haruka, but also doesn’t, because he knows Haruka lacks the ability to be subtle in situations like these. What Sousuke _doesn’t_ need right now is attracting more attention their way, so he stays silent while the two finish their dinner.

He’s not jealous, that isn’t what this is; he just finds it rude how someone can so blatantly stare at another person without any sense of delicacy. There _is_ , after all, a guy sitting in front of Haruka, and maybe he shouldn’t assume people should know they’re dating, seeing as they aren’t big on public display of affection in the first place.

“You finished?” Haruka asks, and Sousuke’s thankful for it. He nods, and calls for a waiter to give them their bill. Hopefully it’ll happen fast; he’s really uncomfortable and annoyed with the girl who by this point is very close to burning two holes into the side of Haruka’s head, possibly his cheek.

He insists on paying since he was the one to suggest them having dinner out in the first place. It’s sort of a date, though Sousuke hadn’t referred to it as such, and Haruka probably doesn’t think it is one, either. Who needs to label stuff, anyway? Sousuke’s just glad he and Haruka finally had time to eat a proper dinner together, which they haven’t been able to in weeks since they’re both swamped with work.

“Um, excuse me!”

They both stop right at the doors, and when they turn around, Sousuke wants to roll his eyes so far back into his head he’d probably see stars. The girl who’d been ogling Haruka up until just a few minutes ago comes half-jogging up to them, and of course, stops right in front of him. She’s red as a stoplight, and Sousuke almost feels sorry for her. Is she going to confess? To a _stranger_?

“You… I’m really sorry to stop you, but… I wanted to tell you you’re really attractive.” She begins frantically waving her hands in front of her, and Sousuke almost wants to ask if she’s still in high school, with the way she’s acting. “I’m not… hitting on you, or anything. I just wanted you to know that.”

Sousuke looks to his side to see Haruka’s perplexed expression; opening his mouth slightly to close it again like a fish coming up for air. Then he frowns ever so slightly, and looks down.

“Oh.”

 _Oh_? Sousuke can’t mask his stunned reaction at Haruka’s dull response, but he still won’t say anything since this has nothing to do with him. (Even though he _is_ Haruka’s boyfriend, and totally has the right to tell her to bugger off and stop being a bother.)

The girl looks absolutely crestfallen at the response she’d been given, and slumps her shoulders. Almost as quickly as she’d run up to them, she’s gone again, something Haruka seems very relieved about. Sousuke lets his index finger lightly touch Haruka’s hand next to his.

“Let’s go.”

“Mmm.”

 

* * *

 

Haruka sinks down on their couch with a long sigh. Sousuke follows not too long after, sitting down next to him almost cautiously, eyeing him from the side. It’s always difficult to tell what Haruka’s thinking about, but this time even more so than usual. Sousuke just can’t let go of what just happened at the restaurant, and wonders if it’s dumb of him to ask, even though he really wants to.

“So, I just have to ask… what was up with that response to the girl at the restaurant?”

“What do you mean?”

“’Oh’. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Haruka looks to his side, and shrugs. “I didn’t know what to say.”

“’Thank you’, maybe? What, you’re not used to people complimenting you?”

He means it as a half-joke, and seconds later realises he shouldn’t have. “I’m not. No one’s really said that to me before, and I haven’t really considered it before?”

Sousuke leans back against the couch, once again dumbfounded. “What, that you might be attractive to others? Or to yourself?”

“Both.”

“What the fuck—you don’t think you’re _attractive_?”

And it hits Sousuke just how bad he is at saying things like these. Saying things at _all_ ; he wonders just how many times he’s told Haruka ‘I love you’, or ‘you look great today’, or _anything_ of that nature. Compliments, really. Stupidly enough, he just _assumes_ Haruka knows these things without him having to be told that he looks great, that Sousuke loves him, or that he’s handsome and attractive.

“I didn’t say that,” Haruka retorts. “I’m just saying I never thought about it.”

Sousuke lets it sink in for a few seconds before he clears his throat, starting over, and he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “Well… you _are_ attractive. That girl wasn’t the only one who thinks so. I do, too. I guess I just… assumed you knew that.”

This time, Haruka looks at him, and now Sousuke wants to look away instead. This is probably the reason as to why he rarely compliments Haruka—he becomes a blushing mess in attempting to do so.

“Thank you,” Haruka says this time, and Sousuke wonders if it’s just because he’d told Haruka to respond that way to compliments. “I think you’re attractive, too.”

Sousuke nearly chokes on his saliva, and Haruka laughs at his reaction. So, okay, neither of them are really that good at taking compliments, he realises.

“Thank you,” he parrots, and Haruka snorts.

“Copycat.”

“Hey, I told you to say that to begin with!”


	2. KisuHaru + “H-hey! Why are you crying all of a sudden?!”

Kisumi knew this wasn’t what Haruka needed, nor wanted. He sees it in Haruka’s movements; they’re hesitant, slow, like he doesn’t want to be there, like he wants to be literally anywhere else but this arena. And no wonder, because Kisumi’s very aware of the fact that Haruka _doesn’t_ want to be there. And he’d told Haruka so, way before they ended up here, before Kisumi ended up just minutes away from watching Haruka go through with a race he doesn’t want to be a part of.

He watches Haruka get up on the starting block, lets his eyes sweep over the other swimmers. Haruka looks so out of place he almost looks like he was just dropped in there from another dimension. Kisumi almost doesn’t want to watch, but knows he has to. That’s why he’s here, to support his boyfriend through something he’s decided he wanted to do.

Even though he really doesn’t.

The race starts, and Kisumi leans forward to the point of nearly falling over. He holds one hand over his mouth, nibbles on his lower lip in nervousness behind it. Watches the swimmers dive into the pool at the sound of the start gun, and keeps his eyes locked on Haruka. His form is beautiful, but his mind is elsewhere, and it’s so painfully obvious Kisumi knows he can’t be the only one to see if.

And then it repeats itself. Haruka’s individual freestyle race from his last year of high school, which Kisumi hadn’t been there to watch for himself, but heard plenty about to practically envision in his mind. It all repeats itself, when Haruka makes it two lengths into his race, slows down, and eventually stops swimming. Kisumi’s heart aches at the sight; all he wants to do is run down there, pull Haruka out of the pool and get him far, far away from there. From professional swimming altogether, really—but it’s also something he doesn’t have the right to decide for Haruka.

So he instead goes down to wait, and when Haruka finally comes out again, this time fully dressed, the two leave without saying a single word, and Kisumi doesn’t look back.

 

* * *

 

Haruka doesn’t get out of bed the next day. Kisumi cooks for him; light meals that he doesn’t have to exert much effort to consume. Two days after the race when Haruka’s at least _somewhat_ responsive, Kisumi helps him into the bath tub, cleans him up, washes his hair. He takes care of him like he knows Haruka would take care of him, and while he has no idea whether or not it’s appreciated, it’s definitely something Haruka needs. When it’s been four days, Haruka grabs the hem of Kisumi’s shirt as he’s about to leave their bedroom, leave Haruka to himself for a bit.

“Kisumi, I… I don’t want to swim anymore. I want to quit.”

It requires great strength to utter these words, this decision, Kisumi can tell. But there isn’t a single shred of hesitation in it—this is what Haruka _really_ wants for himself.

So Kisumi sits down on the bed next to Haruka, lets out a quiet sigh of relief, and grasps Haruka’s hand.

“Okay.”

A few seconds pass, during which Kisumi chooses not to say anything to let Haruka speak up first. He sees surprise and confusion on Haruka’s face, and while he wants to say something else, he wants Haruka to prompt it.

“Are you angry?”

He shakes his head. “No. Why should I be?”

“Rin would be.”

“I’m not Rin.”

Haruka frowns, clenching the hand Kisumi isn’t holding into a fist on top of the duvet. “Are you disappointed, then?”

“I’m not disappointed either, Haru.”

Kisumi watches Haruka’s shoulders relax a little, but not completely. “Makoto would—”

“I’m not Rin, and I’m not Makoto, either. I’m not disappointed, I’m not angry. You want to know what I am?”

“Yes.”

He sounds hesitant, but still agrees to hearing Kisumi’s opinion on the matter. If it’s something Kisumi’s learnt over the years with Haruka, it’s to not speak of things that have nothing to do with him, unless he’s been asked to. And that probably applies to anyone, really—he hasn’t known up until he and Haruka started dating and these things became clear to him.

“I’m happy for you, and I support your decision.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

Kisumi wants to say so much more, to say that he _wanted_ Haruka to quit swimming professionally because he didn’t think it suited Haruka, who’s supposed to be a free individual. Putting Haruka in the professional swimming environment is like trapping a bird in a cage, or clipping its wings and robbing it of the ability to fly freely. Haruka doesn’t swim for anyone but himself and his friends, and that isn’t—in Kisumi’s opinion—what professional swimming is about.

And then he has, to his horror, watch Haruka’s eyes get teary, see one tear fall, only for others to follow. He flinches, retracting his hand from Haruka’s as if he’d just burnt him.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

But then Haruka confuses him even more by laughing, and he shakes his head, a hiccup escaping past his lips. “I don’t know. I’m… happy. Relieved.”

“Why? I thought I said something wrong!”

“You’re okay with it. And I’m happy.”

It dawns on Kisumi, like someone just dropped a bucket of ice water over his head, that Haruka’s probably never had anyone outright support him in his decisions. Makoto’s quiet; doesn’t say anything about things like these when he dislikes them, but his eyes, tone of voice and general behaviour can spell his thoughts out for him instead. Rin shows it both in emotion and actions; he’s loud, he gets angry, and while he’s honest, he tends to step on people’s toes without necessarily meaning to.

So Kisumi sighs and lets himself relax, and he brings a hand to Haruka’s face to brush his tears away with a thumb. “I support whatever decision you make, dummy. I might tell you what I _think_ you should do, but only because I love you.”

“Gross,” Haruka says, but he’s still smiling a little. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

It takes him a few days, but then Haruka goes for a leisurely swim in the communal pool. When he comes back home, Kisumi notes his mood definitely being a lot better than it’s been in probably weeks.

And really, he can’t ask for anything more than that.


	3. MakoRei + "Kiss me"

Maybe it’s too soon, maybe he’s being too forward. But they’ve been dating for two years at this point, and he really can’t stand having to commute between his and Rei’s apartment every time they want to meet. It’s an hour journey one way, and Makoto’s pretty sure Rei’s getting tired of it, too.

Besides, isn’t this the way relationships progress? First date, sex, actually dating, moving in together, getting a cat maybe… Makoto suddenly finds himself wondering whether Rei is a dog or cat person. (He hopes Rei’s a cat person.)

“Really?”

“Yes. Will you?”

Rei looks down at the set of keys in Makoto’s hand, and it occurs to Makoto that it very much looks like he’s proposing right now, except that he’s just asking Rei to move in with him, and instead of a box containing a ring, he’s holding two keys on a keyring. He’d made the copies of his own keys several days earlier, and he’s only now gathered enough courage to ask Rei the big question. Well, the _somewhat_ big question.

“Yes,” Rei says, and then he looks back up at Makoto. He looks determined, but also excited and _happy_. “I want to move in with you.”

“Really?”

Rei nods, still smiling, and then Makoto lifts him up into his arms. Buries his face into the fabric of Rei’s shirt, tightens his embrace. It’s a second start, maybe even their second honeymoon phase—god knows their first one lasted too long according to everyone around them—and a step in the right direction for their relationship.

 

* * *

 

Makoto helps Rei move his things in at the end of the following month, and Rei doesn’t renew his lease which expires that month anyway. Makoto jokes that this’ll be better for the both of them since they’ll pay less in rent, and Makoto gets to eat things that aren’t just instant ramen noodles and omelettes in the shape of scrambled eggs, and Rei frowns and tells him he can’t believe Makoto’s a year older than him.

(Makoto can’t believe it, either.)

It doesn’t surprise Makoto that Rei’s boxes and suitcases are all neatly packed, his toiletries neatly organised in a smaller cardboard box. He’s washed and ironed all of his clothes, so all they have to do is put them in drawers and hang them up in the closet. When it comes to being organised like this, Rei is Makoto’s complete opposite. Well, _almost_ complete opposite—Makoto tends to fix things once they reach a critical state, but otherwise doesn’t see the need. He has a feeling Rei will reorganise and tidy up his things a lot, and knows he should probably make a habit out of doing the same.

It takes them quite a while, but when they’re finally done, Rei stands back from the closet with an exhausted sigh. He turns to Makoto, and laughs a little, seeming a little nervous. Makoto can’t help but find it endearing, though he’s probably a little nervous himself.

“So… I guess I live here now,” Rei says awkwardly.

“And I’m glad you do.”

“Me too.”

Makoto takes a step towards Rei, closing the distance between them. It does feel strange, them being like this, living together—but it feels _right_. And once it properly settles, he’s sure the nervousness will dissipate, too.

“Rei.”

“Yes?”

He smiles, cupping Rei’s cheek in his hand. “Kiss me.”

“Why?”

“Why _not_?” he laughs, and Rei shakes his head, mirroring his boyfriend’s smile.

“… Fair point.”

He brings Rei close, and Rei—to Makoto’s childish delight—gets on his toes to kiss him. Rei puts his hands on Makoto’s shoulders, and then Makoto lifts his boyfriend up into his arms.

“Hey!” Rei protests, breaking away from their kiss. Makoto smiles, still.

“Are you scared of heights, Rei?”

“I am _not_! And you aren’t that tall, either.”

“You’d better get used to this,” Makoto says, barely an inch away from Rei’s lips. “I’m gonna take every opportunity I can from now on to kiss you. Because I couldn’t before, and I had to take a train for an hour to do so.”

Rei brushes their noses together, puts his forehead against Makoto’s. “I don’t mind getting used to it.”

“Good.”


	4. SouMako + "I can't believe we didn't find each other until now"

He never really ‘believed’ in dating apps before, and always brushed off Rin’s attempts at getting him into them in the first place. _Just try it_ , he’d been told. Well, everyone’s not as lucky as Rin is when finding people; just because Rin happened to find Kisumi at a bar and instantly connect with him doesn’t mean that can happen to Sousuke. Especially considering how vastly different they are when it comes to the social bit of things.

But he does try it. Ends up meeting a bunch of weird, creepy and older men—by quite a bit, too—who ask him for a picture of his dick before they even say hi. And maybe it’s just Sousuke being the one out of touch with what’s ‘in’ these days, and how you pick up people, especially on social media or dating apps. Again, the social bit is one Sousuke’s still working on, but he’s come to realise that it’s going to be a long and painful journey.

So it really surprises him when he finds a guy his age—apparently two months younger, even—who _doesn’t_ ask for a photo of Sousuke’s dick the first thing he does. He actually says hello, and starts a conversation. And for some reason, that just _immediately_ reels Sousuke in. The two talk for hours on end, and they don’t even know what the other looks like.

All Sousuke knows is that this guy’s last name is Tachibana, but he doesn’t know the first name. He’s really curious to find out what this guy looks like, but also doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want to ask for pictures. Though it obviously wouldn’t be of the guy’s _dick_ , of course, so it’s probably different. Probably. (He’s still not going to ask.)

He finds out Tachibana loves cats. Is terrible at cooking, has a best friend named _Haru-chan_ for some goddamn reason (yes, he knows that’s not his real name, but _wow_ , that’s a terrible nickname. He feels bad for the guy.) who _is_ good at cooking, and more often than what should probably be acceptable cooks Tachibana dinner. It almost sounds like the two are dating, but then again, if they were, Tachibana probably wouldn’t be on apps like this one, looking for someone to date. Or hook up with.

Sousuke realises he has no idea what Tachibana might be after with this, and he’s not even sure what he wants for _himself_ with this thing. All he knows is that he really likes talking to Tachibana, the two sending countless of messages between each other several days in a row. When it’s been almost two weeks, Sousuke gets agitated to the point where he just _really_ wants to meet Tachibana, and asks the other where he lives. Hopefully, Tachibana won’t consider him a creep now that they’ve talked quite a bit, and maybe reveal at least the _province_ he lives in.

**Tachibana, M** : _Tokyo, actually. Nakano, to be more specific. And you, Yamazaki-kun?_

He nearly chokes on his saliva, and types away his reply in probably less than three seconds.

**Yamazaki, S** : _Tokyo, too! Except Shinjuku, which isn’t far from where you live. Man, can you believe the coincidence? How the hell?_

**Tachibana, M** : _I can’t, that’s amazing! We should meet. If you want to? I guess maybe meeting someone you’ve never seen or really talked to before could be weird_.

**Yamazaki, S** : _No, we should meet. When, where?_

He can barely believe it, and wonders if maybe it _is_ a bad idea, after all. All he’s seen is a picture of Tachibana’s cat, which was Tachibana’s profile picture. And what Tachibana’s seen of Sousuke… well, he hopes it’s part of the reason as to why Makoto wants to meet. And then it _isn’t_ a dick picture, but probably also not something you show your parents or even friends.

 

* * *

 

So they decide to meet at Bar Candy in Shinjuku the coming Saturday at nine, which is a place Sousuke’s never been to—might be because of the name, just _might_ —and Sousuke can _not_ wait for Saturday to arrive. Even Rin can tell, because he keeps asking Sousuke why he’s so distant and just not himself. Sousuke’s lost the ability to keep a poker face around Rin over the years, and this is one of those moments where he wishes he hadn’t, because it would spare him Rin’s weird looks and constant questioning.

_Look for a guy with light brown, borderline olive hair_ , Tachibana had told him. Oh, and apparently he has green eyes, but who can tell from a distance, and when it’s dark out? He’ll just have to trust he won’t wave at the wrong guy whenever he sees someone fitting said description, because _that_ could be awkward. In return, he’d given Tachibana a vague description of himself—well, to the best of his abilities, but Rin and probably anyone else would call it vague—and he hopes it’ll help the both of them to find each other.

Sousuke arrives outside the bar a few minutes before the time they’d agreed on. He shoves his hands down his pockets, and tries to look as casual as possible while his storm of emotions and nervousness tells him otherwise. He looks around himself whilst trying to _not_ look like a creep, and soon enough, he spots a figure that sort of fits Makoto’s description of himself. And instead of overthinking it, he goes for it.

“Tachibana!” he calls out. To his surprise and relief, the figure—who is about his height, he realises—turns to face him, and Tachibana walks over to him with a stupid, wide smile plastered on his face.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly. “Yamazaki-kun… right?”

Sousuke can’t help but smile, too. Damn, Tachibana’s smile is _contagious_. “Yeah. Also, please drop the honorific, you make me feel like I’m above you or something. Well, not _above_ , but—“

“I get it,” Tachibana replies, holding up a hand and thankfully stopping Sousuke’s clumsy and embarrassing rambling. “Can I call you by first name, then?”

“First name basis and we haven’t even kissed,” Sousuke jokes. “Kidding. It’s Sousuke.”

“Could be arranged, if you want to,” Tachibana hums, at which point Sousuke feels like he might spontaneously combust. “It’s Makoto. Should we go in? It’s a bit cold.”

And that’s when Sousuke realises; fuck, it _is_ cold.

 

* * *

 

It’s awkward at first, he has to admit. And it’s probably because they’ve never met in person before, and met two weeks ago on a gay social media app. Sousuke isn’t used to these things, and maybe Makoto is; maybe he’s met many other men like this and gone out for drinks with them and who knows what else.

He notices very soon that Makoto is good at talking, but less good at handling alcohol. He reckons Makoto probably doesn’t drink very often, if at all, and that maybe he’s being a bad influence by taking Makoto out for drinks. Well, it _was_ a mutual decision, so he’s not to blame for _all_ of it. Just half. And honestly, Makoto being somewhat drunk just makes conversation a lot easier between the two, because he gets even _more_ talkative, and it requires less effort from Sousuke to keep it going.

The drunker Sousuke gets, however, the bolder he gets as well. He’s almost _not_ aware of how direct he is with him touching Makoto’s hand, sometimes being daring enough to teasingly put his hand on Makoto’s thigh whilst joking about something his sober self would most definitely cringe at.

“You know,” Makoto says semi-loudly over the music playing in the bar. “If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect you’re coming onto me.”

Sousuke leans closer, pretending it’s because he wouldn’t have to yell to make himself heard. “What if I told you I am?”

“It’s a good thing you live nearby, then,” Makoto says, and the glint in his eyes only says one thing. That Sousuke’s _definitely_ gotten himself lucky, and he hasn’t even gotten to the _truly_ good part yet.

 

* * *

 

Despite the way Makoto’s back slams into the wall of Sousuke’s apartment, he gasps against Sousuke’s lips less than a second before Sousuke kisses him again. Sousuke’s hands and fingers are eager; he’s unbuttoning Makoto’s shirt—why would anyone ever wear a button-up to what was obviously a prolonged booty-call to begin with?—and then trailing wet kisses along Makoto’s neck and collarbones as he goes.

“So—Sousuke,” Makoto almost whimpers, his right hand palming Sousuke’s, at this point almost painfully hard, cock through his jeans. “Fuck me. Do what we came here for.”

Sousuke unzips Makoto’s jeans, his nose barely touching Makoto’s neck, and his breath probably getting warm against Makoto’s skin. This is the first time he’s heard or even seen any signs of Makoto being capable of using such strong words, and he oddly enough likes it. Makes him think they have one more thing in common, though it’s probably just the alcohol talking in Makoto’s case.

“I’m going to.”

“Well, good.”

And when he finally does, the two not even having moved from Sousuke’s hallway other than when Sousuke went into his bedroom briefly to get lube and a condom for himself, Makoto moans loudly, leaves all of his inhibitions in Nakano, and squeezes his legs around Sousuke’s middle tighter as Sousuke fucks into him against the wall. His fingers tangle in Sousuke’s hair, Sousuke thrusts harder, and his moans and cuss words turn into a garbled mess the closer he gets to his orgasm.

He thinks this is just a one night stand sort of thing, that this is as far as they go, and that now, all Sousuke can do is keep looking for someone new. But Makoto calls him a few days later, and while a similar thing repeats itself as for what happened in Sousuke’s hallway, at least this time both of them are sober, and this time, they’re at Makoto’s place in Nakano.

It soon enough turns into a habit, and then the habit turns into waking up next to each other and one of them forcing the other out of bed as they both have to get to work. It’s making each other coffee in the morning—and also learning what kind of coffee the other likes, which has had Sousuke realise Makoto has a _very_ sweet tooth—and it is, most of all, getting to know each other beyond the boundaries of the social media app on which they met not too long ago.

“You know,” Makoto says one night as they’re lying in Sousuke’s bed, “I can’t believe we didn’t find each other until now. We live five minutes away from each other.”

Sousuke shrugs with one shoulder. “Fate works in strange ways.”

“You believe in fate?”

He snorts. “I don’t. It just seemed like the appropriate thing to say, the one thing that’d sweep you off your feet.”

“I’m already lying down, Sousuke.”

“Cheeky bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> [radiodread](http://radiodread.tumblr.com) @ tumblr


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